After Dinner Thoughs (Broken Promises)
by SciFiRN
Summary: Abby and Ray at the end of the day. Each have something different on their mind, but it ends up the same place. Just a little Ray Donovan smut, because the show inspires some serious smut. In my opinion this is completely in Ray's character and Abby's too for that matter. This has been posted since Sept of last year over on the Archive oOO, but I somehow forgot to post it here.


Abby put the last of the dinner dishes in the washer and then leaned against the counter as she shut the door and pressed the button to start the cycle. Absently she picked up her wine glass and sipped as she tried to ignore the thoughts swirling around in her head. She sighed, shook her head and refused to cry. She hated that she was always on the verge of tears anymore; caught somewhere between angry and sad. She was sick of broken promise after broken promise. She pulled her phone from the counter and grabbed some headphones that were curled up beside it. She slid the cord into the jack and found a playlist she thought would help mellow her out. She hit play, adjusted the volume and then reached for the expensive bottle of red before heading toward the couch.

The music helped slow her thoughts, but it didn't really stop them and she found herself focusing on the kids. Currently they were upstairs doing god knew what. Truth be told, she didn't really care right now. It was peaceful, so she gave a mental shrug. That probably made her a bad mother since she should have checked on them well before now. She glanced at the clock and confirmed it was quarter to eleven and she noted that she should have at least made sure Connor had finished his English essay.

She exhaled loudly as she set the bottle on the small table and poured more of the wine into her glass. "Fuck it."

She took another sip and then settled back against the cushions. She kicked off her shoes, put her feet up, held the glass by her thigh and closed her eyes. The music kept her quiet company for a bit, but eventually scenes from the past few weeks flashed against her closed lids. She smiled and frowned depending on the moment and then she found that when the music changed her mind wandered elsewhere. Jillette Johnson begging to be seen, desperate to be noticed and wanting to be fucked just reminded her too much of herself. She didn't know why the damn song got to her, but it did and she was right. She and Ray worked in bed because they were both fucked up. She needed exactly what he gave her. She bit her lip as her lust spiked and then her frown deepened even as her nipples tightened. The grip on the stem of her glass was a bit desperate and she tried to chase the thoughts of her husband from her head without success.

"Fuck you Ray…" She whispered softly just before she downed half of what was in her glass and then set it down with a shaky hand a bit awkwardly on the table. "Always getting in my head when I don't want you there…"

He was right, she always wanted to fuck when she was drunk and she was drunk enough to at least start thinking about fucking. God, she had a serious problem and she knew it. She hated that she needed him the way she did. He was a drug to her. She had a serious weakness when it came to him and he knew it. A look, a word, a small threat…maybe it was the dangerous look in his eye or the way he hurt her just enough to make it feel so good. She could never tell him no. Even when she tried, she could never really mean it. Dammit, she was angry at him. She didn't want to think about his hand sliding up the inside of her thigh…she gasped and bent her left leg as the right dropped to the floor beside her. Her fingers skimmed her neck and she arched her back as she trailed her fingers down her arm raising goose bumps as she went. All the while there were constant thoughts of Ray touching, grabbing, talking dirty in her ear.

He should be home, but he wasn't, just another goddamn broken promise. Earlier, he'd called at the last minute and she'd had to rush home to pick Connor up in time to make his orthodontist appointment and then after he promised he'd be home for dinner, he didn't show. Not only that-he hadn't bothered to call either, but that shouldn't surprise her. She moaned when her hand hit the gap between her shirt and the waist of her jeans. She teased the skin there. Her touch was light and soft over the creaminess of her belly and over the dip by her hip bones. She shivered and just let her fingers play under the denim waistband as she fingered the button of the fly.

RDRDRDRDRDRDRD

Ray hit the gas and accelerated around the BMW in front of him. He was pissed, it was late and he was tired. He glanced in the rearview mirror, signaled and moved back into his lane as he checked his speed. He didn't need a ticket, not tonight. He'd dealt with enough shit for the entire week today. He didn't need more. He hated the swirling uncertainty in his gut and it had him tense and angry. Promises were never kept. Hell, even business deals went all fucking sideways lately. Sully of all people just royally fucked him over. He let loose a string of curses in three different languages. He just didn't understand how everyone saw Mickey differently than he did. Why didn't they know what he knew? Why didn't they remember and how could they just forgive everything the man had ever done? Why did they let him lie and charm and squirm his way out of trouble or into their lives? Damn it, the man waltzed around like he didn't have a care in the world, like he'd never fucked up his children's lives…he always played the innocent and if someone else got hurt, well, it really wasn't his fault was it?

"_You're a Donovan…take it like a man, son. Grow a pair…you gonna let him do that? You gonna let me do that to you boy?" _

His father's voice was always in his head; like a never ending record, over and over with the constant taunting, teasing and bullying. He pushed and pulled and Ray was the man he was because of Mickey and he knew that wasn't a good thing. Everything Mickey touched got fucked up or fucked over. Ray worked hard for something better. He'd left Boston to get away from that and to make something better for himself and his family. Family meant everything and he'd protect what was his, even if it was from his own father. He wasn't his father. He wasn't anything like him. Was he?

The light changed suddenly and he was forced to slam the brakes so hard the car rocked violently to a stop. He punched the dash repeatedly in anger and frustration. "Fuck, fuck…fuck you, fuck me…fuck everything." He glared at nothing, at the traffic passing in front of the windshield, slightly blurred by the tears that he didn't admit were in his eyes until the blast of a horn brought him out of his thoughts. He threw the car into park and reached for the door handle, tempted to get out and beat the shit out of whoever was behind him, but he realized it was a woman in a minivan and he didn't hurt women. It wasn't his style. Well, at least not unless they were holding a gun to his head. He flipped her off and then hurriedly wiped his face before he shifted into drive, slammed the gas and with a squeal of his tires he was gone.

He shook his head. He wasn't quite drunk enough for that much violence anyway. Sometimes he wished he could drink himself into oblivion like his brother. He wanted to be insensible to the pain. Drugs, alcohol and sex…he smirked, turned a corner a bit too fast and then hit a curb when he overcorrected before he managed to regain control of the car; well Bunchy wasn't good with the sex, but still he'd be happy with emulating his brother more regularly otherwise. He slowed down as he entered the housing development. He'd listened to Abby's voicemails. He knew she was pissed. Hell, she had every right to be, but work had gotten in the way again. She liked nice things and his job got her those things. She shouldn't bitch too much. She should know, guys like him…guys from Southie with the same skillset he had, well you just aren't gonna be able to make the same money doing much else.

It was eleven thirty five when he cut the lights and parked the car. He figured she'd be asleep or at least pretending to be asleep so she wouldn't have to deal with him. He locked the door and slipped into the kitchen hoping to find something to eat. He yanked open the fridge, pulled a piece of cold chicken from a plate and started eating as he grabbed a beer. He turned and found Abby on the couch and at first he thought she was asleep since she hadn't seemed to notice him, but then he saw she was moving.

The chicken dropped from his mouth and he raised the beer, took a long drink as he watched. She had her earphones in, probably listening to music, but her hands were busy. One was up under her shirt, which she'd shoved up to reveal her belly, he could tell she was pulling and rolling her right nipple. Her jeans were open, but still on and her right hand was between her legs. He took a second long pull on his beer, almost finishing it off and then set it and the chicken down. He moved closer, careful not to disturb her just yet. He wiped his hands on his jeans and then was forced to adjust himself against his fly as the pressure had become uncomfortable.

He watched as his wife lifted her hips against her hand and a small gasp fell from her lips. Then she whispered his name and he couldn't stand by any longer.

He moved around the couch and knelt beside her. He smiled when she bit her lip and twisted her nipple sharply. Then he bent and slowly slid his hands alongside hers.

Abby's eyes instantly opened and her startled sound quickly became a moan against Ray's mouth.

He kissed her hard and fast even as his hand shoved her shirt higher and pulled the lace cup of her bra lower. He pulled back to find her eyes and watched as she pulled the earbuds from her ears. "You're a naughty girl Abs." He pulled tartly on her nipple even as he shoved a finger roughly inside her. His hand was pressed tight against her between her legs, but she was wet and ready from her own fingers. "God you're on the couch where the kids could find you." He bent, bit at her neck and teased her between the legs with his other hand.

She moaned and pushed his head down toward her breasts. "Shut up. Like it would be better…right now…holy shit…to find their father fucking their mother? Oh god." She arched up as his mouth found her nipple and drew it in. She started pulling his shirt up.

He lifted his head and pulled his hand from her pants. He grabbed her hands in one of his. He shook his head with a cocky smile as he pinned her hands over her head and then bent over her. "You've already had your fun, now I get to have mine." He captured her mouth again even as he pressed his lower body between her legs and rocked against her.

With his free hand he worked open his belt and pulled it free from his jeans. The thick leather was warm against his skin as he broke the kiss and kept his eyes on his wife's. He looped the belt around her wrists and then slid the end through the buckle and pulled. "No more touching." He pulled and her hands lowered behind her back.

"Ray, you're a mother fucker. You know that?" She glared up at him. Her chest was heaving, her face was flushed. She rocked against him. "Sometimes I hate you."

He laughed and tucked the end of the belt under his knee, securing it so she couldn't move. "You're a liar." He watched her face as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "You don't hate me." He lifted his head toward her hands. "Or this and we both know it." He cupped her through her jeans, his thumb applying pressure over her in just the right way and he watched as her eyes clouded, listened as her breath caught and then he went back to unbuttoning his cuffs. "You're so close right now and so fucking turned on you're soaking through your two hundred dollar jeans."

She moaned with her bottom lip between her teeth as she struggled to sit still. She watched him remove his shirt and then almost screamed when he started emptying his pockets. "Please Ray, touch me…"

He paused and glanced at her as he pulled an object from his pocket. He flipped open the blade, exactly what he'd been looking for. "Oh, I'm planning on it." He pushed her hair from her face and then with the ease of someone familiar with cutting clothes from a body, he slid the blade through the material of her shirt.

"Hey, this shirt cost me ninety dollars and not the bra…fuck you…" She watched as the blade tore through her bra, but then she was quiet because the cool steel was on her flesh. "Oh god…" She inhaled sharply, her eyes shifting from the blade, to her husband's face.

His pulse was pounding and he smiled when he saw it hit her. He watched her swallow, saw her flush hot red, saw her pupils blow so wide her eyes looked black and he was tempted to keep going with the blade. It intoxicated him. She intoxicated him. "You're so beautiful Abby. Fucking hell, what did I do to deserve you?" He watched as he slid the sharpened steel over her flesh. He purposely did so blade side down. He watched the thin red lines it made on her skin. So, beautiful…so fucking dangerous…The blade hit her waistline and he paused. His own lust was running full tilt causing his thoughts to be gauzy with the morphine like haze of it.

The knife fell to the floor and he stood. He reached and slipped the belt from her hands before he undid his pants and shoved them down his legs. He didn't stop to remove his shoes. Instead, he shifted yanked off Abby's jeans down, sat on the couch and pulled her up onto his lap.

She straddled him, her balance off for a second before she managed to settle her hands to his shoulders and tried to find it. Her shoulders were sore and numb from her awkward position and she fell forward against her husband's shoulder. "Dammit…" She had no leverage but she was desperate. She rocked against his cock, needy and wanton. "I need you." She looked up at him, kissed his jaw. "Please…"

He grabbed her hips and steadied her and then, one hand on one hip and one hand on his cock, he shifted and drove upward. His head fell back onto the couch. "Oh god…so good baby…" He found the end of the belt as he moved and pulled it toward him, not quite done with his games. He thrust upward over and over, his hands now on her hips as she bounced over him.

Abby moaned and gripped his shoulders weakly. There was pain as the circulation returned, but she didn't care. Then there was something around her neck and her eyes went wide. "Oh god…oh god…"

Ray smiled and tightened the belt around Abbey's neck slightly. "So fucking perfect…shit baby, do that again, yeah…" He altered his thrust when she tightened herself around him. Then he tightened the belt just a bit more around her neck. He watched her face and listened. He heard her moan deeper in her throat and felt her hesitate on the next thrust. Her eyes were on his face now and they didn't leave. He loved it when she did that.

Abby was close, so fucking close she wanted to scream. Her nails dug into Ray's shoulders and she moved over him, but the belt around her neck acted like a leash and he only let her move so much. She could only lift up so high before she had to stop, but that didn't keep her from trying and stretching to the fullest length she could. A wave of dizziness hit her and she moaned as heat rushed upward from her pussy. "Oh god…oh god…" Her vision swam and she blinked to clear it as she lowered her head to his shoulder. "Yeah…fuck…don't stop, don't you fucking stop…"

He chuckled and his mouth found hers. His tongue tangled with hers and then he pulled on the belt, arched her backward, shifted and leaned forward. All the while he kept thrusting and he kept the pressure up around her throat. Just enough to get her where she wanted to be, just enough to give him what he needed. Harder he thrust and he watched her face. He saw it. Saw her gasp, saw her reach up to her throat and pull at the belt as she nodded at him. He let the belt go and then she was cumming around him, screaming his name against his hand. The hand he knew he had to cover her mouth with even as he pounded away into her and pressed his forehead into her shoulder. He felt her teeth in his palm and fuck, if that didn't do the trick for him.

He lifted his head, grabbed her hair and with a grunt, ordered her to open her eyes. "Watch me dammit…watch what you do to me." He thrust twice and then pulled out and came all over her belly and chest with a soft murmur, followed by a heavy groan. "God Abby, you'll kill me." He yanked her hair and then he kissed her hard and fierce. Lips and tongue and teeth clashed and tangled much like their bodies just had. He pulled back to breathe and then pulled her against his chest as he sat back against the cushions. "I fucking love you."

Abby sat straddling her husband's lap, covered in his cum as she tried to catch her breath. She reached up and slid the belt from around her neck and dropped it to the couch before she snuggled against his chest. He shifted and the next thing she knew they were both lying on the couch and then she watched as he was sipping from her wine glass.

"Huh, you know this shit is expensive right?" He sipped it again and then held the rest of the glass to her. He watched her drink it and then set the empty glass back down. "I thought we were saving that for something special?"

She grunted and then poked in him the chest, a chest now as sticky as hers. "Well, I was pissed as hell at you." She shrugged. "Figured it was either that or your whiskey."

He glanced at her finger, now covered in his cum and then captured her hand and pressed her finger to her lips. He watched as she licked her finger clean in a very obscene manner before sucking the finger in an even more suggestive way. "You were right to pick the wine. If you'd drank that much of my good whiskey I'd have used my belt on your ass." He slid his hands over her ass and teased lightly. He closed his eyes against the visual.

"Raymond Donovan, you..." She shivered and then kissed his chin and jaw up to his ear. "Maybe I should just try it one day?" She smiled against his face.

"Don't." He moaned when her fingers played over his cock. He really wasn't ready yet, but he wanted more.  
"Don't play games with me Abby. You might not like the outcome quite as much as tonight baby." His fingers trailed down her thighs and back up.

She shook her head and moaned. She was playing with fire, but… "Maybe you shouldn't make threats you aren't willing to keep."

His eyebrow rose and he landed a playful slap on Abby's ass before he growled and rolled her under him. His gaze slid up her body slowly and his eyes darkened. By the time he focused on her face, all the playfulness had left his eyes. "Who said I wasn't willing?"


End file.
